


Lost Pride

by Eluvian



Category: Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3366680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eluvian/pseuds/Eluvian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the victory everyone is happy, except the Inquisitor, who suffers from the loss of her love. Solas has left without an explanation, and she moves every stone to find him. She wants to be at his side even when she finds out that it can have consequences which can change the world. She forgets her pride and doesn't care about how hard the task given could be. She is, unlike the other Dalish, able to forgive the past and look to the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Pride

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: play the game, not just because of spoilers, but because it can only be enjoyed and understood after it. :)  
> If you are acquainted with the game, you know well that the cliffhanger has made different opinions and different feelings. I think everyone should decide what comes next. There are already interesting and creative opinions. This is mine. It is just good to linger in this imagination (at leat until a DLC comes out about the subject and destroyes everything :D OK, that was a joke) that the dawn will always come.

**Lost Pride**

”I am sorry, but they yet found nothing new.”

After the defeat of Corypheus they finally had a time for celebration. Everyone took a breath. Everyone felt the relief, the hope to get a life and forget the huge responsibilities lying on their shoulders in the last months. Meanwhile, a thought of plannig the future, an obligation for the people who still needed their help, lingered in the air, but that was for later. Yet, all they had to do is to accept the glory they gained. The people looked up on them. On her. She became the leader, after all. She eliminated a threat that would destroy many lifes - although it already had, but there are always losses. All of her companions who she spoke to on the night of the Victory said she should just rest, receive the gladness of the people around her. But that was exactly what she could not do. She felt relieved, of course. She reached what was her aim for a time that almost seemed like eternity. But she couldn't feel joy. And that was because Solas left.

That was it. She knew it, but noone else saw why was she sad when all else celebrated. Why were she looking in the distance for minutes, sometimes not realizing that someone was speaking to her. None. Well, except, maybe, Leliana. She was her only hope. The spymaster could get everywhere she wanted. Her people infiltrated the darkest routes, the most distant territories the bravest adventurer would never dare to go. They could lock every door and get all the information they wanted to get. So the red-haired advisor did everything she could to find him. For the Inquisitor. Frestiehla wondered why Leliana would do this. They had known each other for a time, but they didn't agree in all the decisions. She thought that didn't really matter. Leliana knew people. She saw many things a common eye wouldn't notice. It was her job: the observation of feelings, motivations, weeknesses. It could be used both in defeating enemies and helping allies. Of course she was aware of Frestiehla's feelings... and she wanted to help.

The spy found something. After a few days, clues led to an ancient Tevinter village somewhere in the West. That wasn't much, but it was something and Frestiehla was as grateful as she never was to anyone. Well, there could be exceptions for that, but for now... she was grateful. Leliana understood her. And that was something. That was what she always sought from her companions. Not that they follow her to death and do as she commands. She was said to be a leader but she wanted to be their friend. Who they could trust. And she did everything she could to earn their trust.

Then once, with one certain person, that turst turned to something else, which was beautiful and perfect, and now lost... that she wanted to recover with the help of the spymaster. So when Leliana said the sentence she had had to say every time the elf walked up to her, Frestiehla felt like the ice outside the walls of Skyhold eventually buried her under themself. She closed her eyes and tried not to look too disappointed and miserable. Leliana did everything she could, so seeing the Inquisitor unhappy obviously would make her feel like she hadn’t had done anything at all. Frestiehla didn’t want that.

Leliana sighed.

”Dont try not to look sad. I know you are and you have every reason to. But I tell you what. At this time, you should not bother yourself with it. I promise you I will do everything, but anything happens... You have to be happy. You have to be proud of yourself. The things you achieved... Do you even realize how many people you helped? How many you saved? And you are not alone. Give yourself a little time and enjoy the things you still have. Because if you wander about something you have lost, you can not look forward. This has never done any good in history."  She stopped for a moment, patting the head of one of her ravens. "And I suggest you never be unhappy because of men. They do not deserve it."

She said it in a funny tone. She turned back to the Inquisitor, smiling. Frestiehla smiled back. It was now a real smile, not just something fake, created calming-smile.

”I will keep that in mind’, she said, although she didn’t meant it. But it didn’t matter. Words sometimes don’t mean what they actually mean, she learned that by now. Sometimes they mean less, sometimes much more...

”But, if you are looking for a proper advice...”, Leliana said again, letting the sentence linger in the air and walking to the window, watching the whirling snow outside.

”Yes?”

”You should talk to Cole. He and Solas seemed to have understood each other quite well. And, after all, Cole is a spirit. He has the ability to read minds, as far as I know. If anyone, he could have some information.

”You really think I haven’t– ” she started angrily but stopped. ”Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that. I... have talked to him, but... it is strange. His words are sometimes just... confused. And confusing. He seems not to know what he is talking about, like he is dreaming, or somewhere else. I... sometimes think that if I lead him on the path to become more human, would it be different, even better for him.

”Do not have doubts. He is happy like that, because he can help people, and that is what he’s meant to do, yes? Maybe a mortal would think that this is not enough to do in one’s life to be completely happy, but he is no mortal, yes?”

”Exactly. And every spirit has a purpose.”

”So here you go. You are much like someone in need of help to me, so go to him. Oh, and don’t forget to bring a paper and pencil, in case those vague words would slip out of your mind.

”It’s a good advice, I guess...”

And so she did.

 

***

 

The tavern was not silent. It never was. Maryden sang a song about Sera not being the quietest/wealthiest girl which she sang at leat 3 times every day and which Frestiehla could never have gotten bored with. She liked the melody, the lyrics. They made her happy sometimes. Helped to forget the responsibilities on her shoulder.

Cassandra was sitting at a corner desk with a paper, evidently hardly thinking about something. Frestiehla was surprised to see her here, but the Seeker didn’t notice her, so, she just watched for a while standing by the wall and listening to the music...

”Mortal... what rhymes with ’mortal’?” Cassandra murmured irritatedly.

”I haven’t realized you were writing poetry, Cassandra.” Varric appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Problably he was somewhere around drinking, but Cassandra evidently haven’t realized it yet. "That you read my book, well, that was hell of a surprise too, but that you’re actually doing it... You have impressed me again, Seeker.”

”Wha– what are you doing here?”

”Here? You mean here, in the tavern? It is a much more appropriate question that what are you doing here. But, if by here you mean standinsg beside the table you’re sitting at... just checking you. You weren’t practicing on the field, neither were you speaking to Curly trying to convince him not to drink that addicting blue stuff... I thought maybe you went sick.”

”You think yourself funny, don’t you? Is it really so hard to imagine me being a little bit sensitive of art you probably thought you are the only one capable of?”

”I didn’t say anything like that. It’s just... well, I think I will really need to get used to weird things here. by the way, the word you’re looking for is ’portal’.”

”What?”

”For ’mortal’, you know.”

”Or _varterral_.” Frestiehla walked toward the two of them, smiling and making both Varric and Cassandra perplexed and speechless. In fact, a grin appeared on Varric’s face, while the Seeker just seemed more and more confused. She turned to the Inquisitor and said:

”I’m not sure I know what you’re–”

”You know”, Varric interrupted explainingly ”that big spider-like creature that protected the elves. Am I right, your Inquisitorialness?”

”Yes, Varric”, she chuckled "correct. ”By no means I wanted to interrupt your conversation of poetry, I am... only looking for Cole. He is probably upstairs, so I’ll leave you to your work. Oh, and, Cassandra, if I may have a final question... What’s that poem going to be about?”

Cassandra looked embarrassed. ”It is not... it is about... Ah, it is not public yet. It is note even sure it is going to be a poem. When – if – I finish, you will be the first to read it.”

”Not me? Ancestors, you just broke my heart, Cassandra...”

 _Oh, you two..._ Fres thought laughing as she walked two levels upstairs.

 

***

 

Cole wasn’t in the tavern, where he usually used to be, wasn’t at the walls, wasn’t at the stables... Frestiehla had walked throughout the entire castle when it came to her mind she’d missed the garden. And Cole was actually there – of course, where less to be expected -, standing by a Felandaris plant. It was newly grown, although looked as old as an ancient skeleton, but that was the fault of the species.

When she approached the young man, he didn’t seem to notice.

”You are really hard to be found’, she announced.

”What is so interesting about this plant?”

”What’s interesting about an old man telling tales to the children?” Cole usually answered questions with questions. His words were slow and quiet as always, his look somewhere beyond the materialistic reality of this world. ”Thorn-flower has tales too. It has pain in it, since no one cares to listen."

”Only you.’, she smiled. ”Do you think it would be sad if I take you away from it and ask you to speak to me, please?”

”You have pain in yourself too. It is deep like a large lake inside the forest, hidden in the holly, doesn’t want to be discovered. You pretend it’s not there but it’s there.”

”Well”, she sighed, ”I am no longer pretending. I tried to, but... I need answers. They have to exist. I mean the answers. You... You know what I’m talking about, right?”

”You are seeking a soul who doesn’t want to be found. A shadow in the moonless night, a lone howl in the desert. You want to see it, but it does not want to be seen. It is – he is your pain, and yet you seek him. Why do you seek pain?”

”Because he is not pain! Well... maybe he is, but he is much more. Sometimes the way to happiness is through pain. Many of it. Like... How much did I have to suffer to achieve what I did? Now the people celebrate me, I – we – have saved countless lives and gave hope. But I am not happy until I found out... why did he do this...”

”The answer will hurt. It will cut you like a thorn of a rose which you touched. Pain attracts you like the light of a candle attracts the moth. It flies into it, and everything goes bright, and then... nothing. There is nothing. It perishes.” He stopped, watching the felandaris, motionless, thinking. ”It is better to forget.”

”Oh, don’t come with this again!’ she said, frustrated. ”I undestrand that you think this, I understand that why you do not want people to remember you. But it is not the same. I am not the same. So please, can you tell me anything you know? You spoke to him so much, understood him, and he understood you! He never talked about it? About leaving, I mean?”

”I... can’t remember...”

”Oh, please, Cole, try to! It is important to me... More important than anything...”

”He... abolished it. We spoke, and I know I said something, but it vanished... he made it vanish. I don’t know how. I felt something. Like a cloud over me. Than the rain came, washing everything, and then the sun. Bright, sharp, blinding. I couldn’t see anything. But... she may know. She heares the whispers. She is bound, so she may ask...”

”Who do you mean?”

"The witch... the Witch of the Wilds, that mage..."

She rose her eyebrows. ”Morrigan?!” Her voice was maybe louder than it should have been. ”How can it be that I haven’t thought about it yet...” she murmured, and buried her face in her hands. ”But she’s left... she’s also left.” Alongside with her son, Morrigan has left soon after the Inquisition’s achievement the Inquisitor just referred to as Victory, with capital letters. She hadn’t said say where she went, preserving her misteriousness which lingered around her every time Fres spoke to her. Morrigan was clearly not the person who just told anyone everything. And she didn’t want to be found either. Frestiehla thought it a rather annoying intention of people...

”But... she was here...” Cole said, as if it was just obvious. Fres looked in her eyes, first not believing what she heard.

”She was here.” she repeated, doubt in her voice. ”She spoke to me. Asked me to make her invisible, and I did. Nobody noticed her. She went to the library...”

”And you did’t tell me?!”

”You didn’t ask...”

”Oh, by the Dread Wolf! Where is she now?”

 

***

 

”’Tis a nice place to some to sleep, I must admit. The balconies letting the light in, the fresh air...” Morrigan said when Frestiehla opened the door of her personal quarters. The Witch of the Wilds was casually sitting on her sofa, wearing her usual Chasind clothes which left many parts of her body uncovered. That she was here just made Fres more furious, if that was even possible.

”So you just leave, than come back, talk to Cole and use him so that no one can see you, dig up my library, then walk into my room and have a speech about how wonderful it is to sleep in? Seriously?” It was more dishonesty for once than that she could bear. Much more. ”I understand your emotions, but you have to understand mine. Yes, I left, because I didn’t want anyone wheezing at my back and asking if I was one of the companions of the mighty Inquisitor Lavellan. And yes, I came back, because the resources that can be found here were supposedly of large contribution in order to find out more about... my mother.”

 _So it’s about that? Your family relations?_ She didn’t want to say that loud. She tried to calm herself. Instead, she sighed, started to walk in the room so that the movement would take away a little of his nervousness. It helped a little.

Since she didn’t say anything, Morrigan continued. ”My researches have led to a rather... unexpected result. We already knew that she – Flemeth – was a host to a spirit.”

”And what does it have to do with my library? I wasn’t aware of the fact that we are reserving books about ancient elven culture.”

”No, the book was... about something else. It is just important that Flemeth was technically an abomination. A human body preserving a spirit of a goddess in itself.”

”You are evading the subject.” Frestiehla folded her arms. Morrigan sighed. Her face’s expression was uneasy.

”About the library... I was searching for information about an elven – or Tevinter – relic. You are already familiar with it. The ’Orb of Destruction.’” The Inquisitor’s eyes widened. ”The one that left the Mark on your hand.” She instinctively touched that point on her palm. ”The power it has... had…”

”What? What of its power?” She couldn’t match the threads. The orb, Flemeth, Morrigan showing up, Cole talking about the pain she is seeking... it was too much. But maybe Morrigan really had answers. She watched the witch’s face, clinging to her every word, eager to hear the answer... which didn’t come easily.

”It... may have the ability to free the elven gods. I suggest I don’t have to tell you the story about the capturing of the gods by Fen’Harel.”

She didn’t. Every Dalish child knew that story by the age of five. But that meant...

”This relic was used to capture them? And by that, they can be freed?” Morrigan was speechless for a moment, then nodded.

”’Tis merely a possibility."

”And what does it have to do with Asha’Bellanar?”

”I am... not entirely sure I am the right person to tell you that. But, as no one else alive and available exists with the knowledge, I will have to. As you know, Flemeth was just a vessel for Mythal. From what the voices told me... I came to the consequence that the role of the vessel has been transferred to another body.”

Frestiehla’s heartbeat was fast. She felt she is up to a revelation that will change many things, since she already had... The fact that the elven gods can be free again... It was almost unbelievable. But the Orb she seen, she touched, it had touched her, leaving the Mark on her hand, it really existed. So why would it not be true? And when they finally free, what would they do? She had so many questions.

”Another body? Why?"

”The reason is unclear, but I have a suggestion. Because that body already contains an alien soul. The soul of the Dread Wolf.”

And then Morrigan spoke. She – although knew it was unnecessary – told the story about the gods’ captivity. Fen’Harel closed them because he had thought that would help the People. That took away much of his energy. He was tired, wanted to rest, so he entered Uthenera. He was asleep for a long, long time, and when he finally awakened, he found a world corrupted, his people enslaved and tortured by horrible centuries of the past. It was not like he planned. He regretted it all and desperately sought a way to free the gods again. The object he needed to do so was the Orb. But its power was so great that even Fen’Harel didn’t have the ability to use it. So he gave it to the only one who did: Corypheus. It was the second of his largest mistakes, because the magister obviously misused this power. But there was no way back. Actually, there was... A new organization was forming, called the Inquisition, with the purpose to stop the Breach, a huge fade rift from which hundreds of demons came and destroyed everything and everyone they found. The Inquisition was his only way to make his deed right.

So he joined.

”Wha– What? Fen’Harel... Joined the Inquisition?”

Morrigan’s face was strange. She looked somehow... deeply sad. She nodded slowly. ”In a body of a powerful apostate, actually, rift mage, if you require the specialization.”

 _No. No. That doesn’t make sense. Not at all_. She was just shaking her head not being able to do anything else for a long time. Morrigan was silent, which just made everything even worse.

”Tell me this is a joke. Tell me you find an absurd joy in making me terribly perplexed, and I swear I fill forgive you, Morrigan.” She looked pleadingly in the witch’s eyes. But Morrigan’s face was morose and inexorable.

”I can’t, because ’tis true. So, ’tis time for me to ask the question: do you intend to help me find your Solas, the Dread Wolf with the soul of Mythal, Urthemiel and who knows who else, or you prefer me to go and find my own way?”

”I... just need a little time to think.”

”Naturally, but keep in mind that it will not lead to anything good if we let the time slip out from our hands. If you have decided, find me. I am going to accompany Cole so that I can be unseen. But you will notice me, I’m sure of that. You see Cole too, after all.”

 

***

 

The other part of the day she spent in that same room. She had to put together her feelings. At first, she thought that she is dreaming, and that story is just a strange creation of her mind, feeding from the need to find any way to find Solas. But as she dag deeply into the legends that she were told a thousand times, it really was possible... After all, it all made sense. Why Solas sought so resolutely to find and preserve their culture; why he spoke so little about his past; why did he know so many things no one could possibly know who haven’t lived when they happened; why he wanted to leave after he kissed her at the balcony, and... yes, even the departure. After Corypheus died and Solas noticed that the Orb of Destruction was broken, he said ”This wasn’t supposed to happen like this”. Yes, it all made sense. But who was he now? The deep-hearted apostate fighting for freedom and peace, who she loved? The Dread Wolf, who made a serious mistake and then tried to fix it? Plus... Mythal? And a dragon? In one body? It was just too much...

She didn’t believe it. But she couldn’t not believe it. She didn’t know what to believe. There were the stories everyone told the Dalish children since they were born. It was their religion. But as Frestiehla grew up, she started to have doubts. She’d never any signs of the gods. Everyone prayed, everyone sacrificed and everyone always asked them something, but things sometimes just didn’t change. The rain didn’t stop, a child’s toy didn’t turn up, a jealous lover didn’t find peace in his or her heart... Like the gods wouldn’t listen. Although, Frestiehla had to believe, because that was expected. Everyone did. The Dalish honored a few things besides themselves and their gods, their heritage which they hold in their grip so tight that it was almost destroyed because of their strong protection. But the gods didn’t seem to have helped the People. Those besides the Dalish were mostly slaves, servants or corrupted remnants of what they could be: criminals, thieves and even worse. Sometimes she would just scream to the highly-honoured gods and ask them why don’t they do something about it. Why would they want them to suffer? Why would they benefit from a starving elven child in the dirty streets of a human city?

When she decided to go to the Conclave, she did it partly out of curiousity. Seeking aswers for questions of long years that had grown in her heart. And now, when she had almost lost every faith, it could happen that the gods really existed? The more, they exist now? And more, one of them almost caused the destruction of the world because after he set everything up – which, by the way, led to a terrible and of an originally great plan – he had become tired and went to sleep? For centuries? And, by the way, that person she had actually loved, with all her heart? Not particularly a thing easy to bear while having a rest after a hardly gained victory.

But she had to find answers now. And, first of all... she had to find him... she just had to. So she made a decision, but this decision was not her choice. It was necessary, there was no other way.

 

***

 

It took her and Morrigan several weeks to find the name of the Tevinter village Solas supposedly went in order to find an orb similar to the Orb of Destruction, which could possibly free the elven gods from their captivity.

Canavis was a Tevinter village, but a village in Tevinter is like at least a little bit of a town elsewhere. Although the buildings were just ruins, they still signified how majestic they once were at the time when life flowed through the ancient walls. It was abandoned, but it preserved a lot of memories. If one would fall asleep here and go to the Fade...

 _Don’t think about it_ , she reminded herself, as she stepped through a rock on the ground. She could never control her feelings. Well, maybe some time she could, but this ability had long since been lost.

Morrigan and Kieran followed her. Morrigan wore a purple mage robe instead of her Chasind clothes now, and carried her fire staff. Kieran... he insisted to come with his mother, and Morrigan in vain tried to change his mind. No reason would catch the child's common sense, and when he demonstrated his opinion about the subject, it was very loud, which didn't contribute well to the fact that Morrigan wanted to be unnoticed. So finally she agreed that his sone would come, even if it made her terribly nervous - at least that was what the witch told Frestiehla, and she believed it. Whatever had really happened, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Are you sure we're close? ", the Inquisitor asked.

"Yes. That... that's the building." She pointed at a large mansion in the distance. Its walls almost collapsed which could be seen from the several cracks running through them like a decorating pattern, but something still held it together. Magic, perhaps.

Morrigan somehow felt the presence of the artefact. Frestiehla didn’t know how, but it was connected to the Vir'Abelasan. That was the time when she thought that maybe it had been better if she drank from the well, but... no. Bound to Mythal forever? No way. She felt bad for Morrigan... From what she knew, the witch spent 2/3 of her life in the shadow of her "mother", and when she was finally free, it turned out that they're bound forever. It was just... not right. One would think life can't do this to a person. But it can. Life can and does do terrible things to people.

They approached the building. Morrigans eyes were half closed, her look confused; she must have listened to the voices, or that strange calling that came from the thing they were looking for.

But inside, there was nothing. Paintings on the ancient walls, the old furniture broken, wind blowing dust through the floor... The wind. The wind made her shiver. It was like in a cemetery. Everything abandoned, gray, dead and cold... and there was magic in the air, evidently. She could feel it. The Veil was thin. _Yes, I can feel it on my skin..._ she thought and sighed silently.

Kieran was discovering the area. He already found three wooden cubes, tho wolf figurines and a huge amount of dust - probably in a room which once was a children's room - which he held in his hands.

”Look at these, mother! "

"Mother doesn't have time now", Frestiehla took the boy’s hand. Morrigan was still listening to the voices. Or... _something_. Frestiehla looked at the little sculptures. "They are beautiful, yes, but... "

"Where should I put them?

"She showed her hands. "Here. I will take care of them and when we go home, you will get them back.” She put away the toys in her pocket.

”You can keep them”, Kieran said.

”Thank you. Just don't linger. Mother is already nervous because of you. You made her worry, you know.”

"I didn't want to. " She could see a little bit of guilt in those huge brown eyes. "But I wanted to come."

"I know that. And she knows that. Just make sure you don't get in trouble. ...Morrigan? " The witch's face was if she had have a nightmare. Troubled, frustrated, as if she ran from somebody. Finally she opened her eyes, staring in the distance.

"I am okay... it's just... it's so loud...”

"There is too much magic here, but not the orb we're looking for. You may have been mislead by those voices. I appreciate your help, but we can't do anything more, so we might as well turn back... There is nothing here”, she said. She felt the situation hopeless. There was so much magic there that it was impossible to distinguish whether it came from an object or the whole place.

"No, no, no... ", Morrigan said. ”It is here…”

Frestiehla felt strange, like someone was watching her from behind. It made her hair stand on end. She turned around and saw Solas standing at the entrance. He held something in his hand. The green glow was unmistakable... _So he found it_.

"You shouldn’t be here.” He said, first looking at her, then at Morrigan. It was impossible to decide to whom were the words said. _Not the first thing I imagined you say when we meet,_ she thought bitterly. "And you, witch? What did you suspect to find? "

"Me? " Morrigan raised her eyebrows. "Oh, nothing. Just the solution for a problem that threatens the whole world. Especially your people. If the gods don't pay attention what is happening, or, if they fail to preserve the balance, than someone else has to do it instead of them. Don't you agree, Dread Wolf?”'

He bowed his head. "So you know” This wasn't for Morrigan. This was for _her_. She knew it. _So it is true_ , she thought. „I am trying to recreate that balance. As I tried first. That was a mistake, but now I have the power.”

Kieran freed himself from Morrigan's hands. ”He is with you?”, he asked. First Frestiehla didn't understand it, but then it all became clear. Kieran had a spirit with since his birth. A spirit of an Old God, the Archdemon of the Fifth Blight. Then Flemeth took the soul from the boy. But Flemeth was the host of Mythal. And if Morrigan was right, Mythal was no longer in Flemeth's body but in Solas'...

”Yes”, Morrigan said. ”He is with him. And... Mythal... is with him too. But do you think, Dread Wolf, that it is enough? Are you aware of the risk that this decision could mean? To break the Veil and free the elven gods? Did you think about what would they do to you when they're free? You were the one who sentenced them to a many-centuries-captivity!”

”I will face my judgement, if necessary. This is not about me, this is about the People. I don't matter.”

”And _I_ don't matter either?” Frestiehla said, accusingly.

”You…” His expression became grim. Sadness deep like a black lake. ”You are different. You shouldn't have became involved in this.”

”Huh. I see. But I did. And you cannot change that now. What's more, I want to help.”'

”You don't know what you're asking.”

”In my opinion, neither of you knows what she’s asking.”, Morrigan interfered. ”But I do. And I have a proposal.” Both of them turned to the witch. ”None of us knows for sure what is going to happen when we use this Orb. But what I know for sure is that it doesn’t matter whether our dear Inquisitor is ther when it happens or not. It will not change the god's intentions, whatever they are. But, if she is willing to go, than why should you stop her? If you walk that path together, you evidently have a better chance to succeed.” She stopped for a moment, wondering. ”’Tis none of my business, but I still don't understand, why did you leave her after all... You will never find a soul with such determination and affection.”

”I know... I... Is this what you want?” He turned to Frestiehla.

”Yes. This is what I want. This is what I always wanted. To help the People. To be at your side. Even if you didn't notice.”

”I think it is time for us to leave you with your problems”, Morrigan said with a sigh and took Kieran's hands. ”I hope – I really hope – they will be settled.”

This was her goodbye. They walked out of the building, Kieran looking over his shoulder at them for a while, then they disappeared in the dust-covered road.

The silence was suffocating. She felt as dead as the walls were around them. And her frustration was as intensive as the magic in the walls. Finally, she was the one who spoke out.

”If you've only told me... I could have... understood.” _Not accepted, but understood_. It was hard to speak. She felt like drowning.

”Believe me, I wanted to. When I took off your vallaslin, I... wanted to tell you who I really am. But that moment... it was so perfect. You were so happy. I was not able to break that. I was weak. I am sorry.”

”So you broke it without an explanation. A wonderful solution. Was it better this way? To leave me without answers, without even a chance to see why you did this?... I knew there was something... I always knew. You didn't want to deepen our relationship. You always wanted to quit, I remember. You wanted not to love me, because you thought it will be easier alone. Without that... what was it? _Emotional entanglement._ But don't you see? It can help. If you have someone, that doesn't hold you back but pushes you forward. You did this to me. You were an inspiration. An eternal motivation to stay alive. A reason to wake up in the morning, to bear the heave burdens of live. It is all easier. Or are these just... thoughts of a desperate mortal?" She didn't mean the last sentence, but it was satisfying to say it.

"Don't... Do not call yourself mortal! You are much more of a goddess than I am a god."

"Don't... use such words!", she rose her hands.

"You are, you can believe me. That's why the people need you. You were an inspiration to thousands. The hope you gave was the reason to wake up in the morning. You were what they needed. You accomplished something many thought impossible. You weren't given a task, yet you achieved it. The responsibilities fell on your shoulder, but you kept going forward. Morrigan is right. You have extraordinary determination. And a strong spirit, much stronger than mine... But what I am intend to do is dangerous. It is necessary, but has many risks. That's why I didn't want you to get involved in it.” With his eyes he still stared at the ground, afraid of what he would see in her eyes. Those eyes were deadly. Pleading, accusing, smiling, calm or sad, but always beautiful. Full of magic, like a lyrium crystal. Like the northern light. Cold and unstoppable as the sky in the frosty winter. He once told her these. Words... were those all lies? Pretence?

"But why do you want to protect me? I don't need the protection which is a wall between me and my desire. I don't need a freedom that separates me from you." She walked closer. She didn't plan it, but her legs moved. Typical. Solas slowly looked into her eyes. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. "

"You are... nothing like anything I have ever encountered. I didn't dare to hope that you would ever forgive me. And, in truth, you shouldn't. I cannot give you what you deserve."

"Fenedhis, than who can? Should I look for someone else to comfort me? Should I forget everything we had? Even if I could ever agree to that idea, it wouldn't work. I don't want to forget, and I won't try to. It isn't the solution, whatever Cole says. I don't want to give up." _Don’t look at me like that._ He caressed her face with a look of someone who had already lost everything. _I am standing right in front of you. You just fail to notice. I came here. I told my pride to go to hell and ran after you. I am begging you not to leave me again,_ she said with her eyes. Those eyes were really deadly, he thought. As he looked into them, it felt as if looking into the sky while lying on the ground. You see nothing else but blue everywhere. You lose your senses. There's nothing else.

"It is not about giving up. The Inquisition still needs its leader. Without you, everything would fall apart, you know that. You keep it together. I have caused enough trouble for you."

"By the Creators, why do you think you only cause trouble? Yes, you made one. A very big one, but we're going to fix it. Nothing is doomed. Yes, sometimes things seem like there is only disaster to come, but if you turn back, than it is sure that it would come. If you face it, you might stop it. You don’t have to walk the world alone, _Fen'Harel._ "

He just shook his head slowly, unbelievingly. He realized that from the numerous miracles he had seen the most impressive was standing right in front of him. "You... don't know what you're ask–” She cut him off with a kiss.

At once, all the memories came back. All the memories he wanted to bury deep in himself. His hands moved against his will, fingers disappeared in her soft, black hair. You can never resist. A voice said in his haid. He really couldn't. He wasn't sure he wanted to. It was a miracle how everything disappeared. Time, the environment, the thought that he should really leave... Yes, especially the thought that he should leave.

Their lips aparted only for moments of breathing, then they sank again into the deep ocean of feelings thought forever lost. It felt forbidden and impossible. Like crossing a limit. Like speaking to someone long since dead. It shouldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening. And yet it was happening. Hope. Like the warmth of a spring wind. A little fair maid in the snow, the herald of the forgotten light of the sun. She let go of his lips and looked him in the eye.

"It wasn't so hard, was it?"

"It was... harder than you could imagine. "

She smiled and laughed silently. She didn't know why, she just felt... relief. Like never before. She had heard that you must lose something, so that when you get it back, you will be more happy than when you first had it, but this... She couldn't imagine. I knew I would find you. And "find" didn't mean just _find_. Find in this specific way.

Her face was red, she knew, but didn't care. She rested her head in his shoulder, arms around his neck, like she would never let him go. She felt safe, and like that was where she always belonged.

"I don't deserve you, vhenan.", he whispered into her ears. She pretended she didn't hear the "I don't deserve you" part.

"I think we should go somewhere nicer, shouldn't we? ", she suggested.

She raised her left hand on which the Mark glowed with supernatural green light. She walked away a few steps and touched the Veil. It was just a moment, while her mind created the scene. A second later, they were there.

The Emerald Graves. Although it wasn't the Emerald Graves, just an imitation of it. Trees with emerald-green, sparkling leaves surrounded them. The birds twittering, the scent of a few hundred flowers lingered in the air. There were huge rocks covered in many kinds of green moss. And a giant sculpture of Fen’Harel. It was not hard to imagine. She had been such places for almost her entire life. It looked a bit like her home. Except for the wolf-sculpture. This came from her journeys at the time she lead the Inquisition.

"Do you like it here?", she asked Solas.

"I would like anywhere with you. But this is indeed beautiful." He took her hand and started to walk towards the sculpture "This place is as calm and peaceful as your spirit. Sometimes I envy you for that."

"Me? Peaceful? Well, I didn't feel so peaceful recently..."

"That is... my negative influence. I am so sorry about everything that happened."

"I am, too. But it's the past, it's gone. We cannot linger in the past. That's what the... Dalish wouldn't understand.", she added silently.

"You will show them."

"I will... or we will. That would be better."

They reached the sculpture and stopped walking. Frestiehla sank her hand into her pocket and took out one of the wolf figurines. ”Take it. I have one too.” She smiled.

He took it from her hand and their fingers touched. This will be a perfect way to symbolize they belong to each other. Like the shems’ engagement ring.

Their eyes met and at once there was nothing to say. That wasn't needed either. He leaned towards him, and, after a moment of hesitation, their lips met. Minutes passed as if they never existed. The scent of flowers filled their soul. He pressed her body to the sculpture. What he felt was extraordinary. So physical. So materialistic. So... mortal. The elemental desire of possession. But still, it was the most wonderful feeling ever. He broke the kiss. He wasn't sure he could let this continue....

"It... can have consequences..."

"I am aware of that”, she said, blue fire in her eyes. "But I don't mind those consequences."

"Are you... certain?"

She smiled. "More certain than I was about anything ever, I assure you."

The illusional sun of the Fade landscape slowly went down and the moon became visible, permeating the leaves with silver-bluish light. The birds finished singing, but the scent of the flowers still lingered in the air.

 

***

 

"He changed his mind? Just because of her?"

"Yes, Kieran, just because of her. A woman's heart can achieve more than you would imagine."

"I still don't understand."

"I promise you: when you grow up, you will. You really will."


End file.
